


Sleeping by the Christmas Tree

by guiltyaschanged



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst, Baby Huey and Dewey and Louie Duck, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dad Donald, Della is mentioned, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy, Holidays, Minor Angst, Parent Donald Duck, Pre-Canon, Seasonal, Single Parents, Sweet, Triplets, Winter, duck family - Freeform, houseboat, santa, triplets are 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27222940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guiltyaschanged/pseuds/guiltyaschanged
Summary: Huey, Dewey, and Louie beg their Uncle Donald to sleep beside the Christmas tree, intent on busting Santa. Donald stays with them until they fall asleep.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 66





	Sleeping by the Christmas Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here's a Christmas-themed story, just in time for Halloween. :3
> 
> If you couldn't tell by my previous stories, my favorite Ducktales thing to write is anything with Donald and the triplets, haha. They are my favorite characters, after all. xD
> 
> Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy!

“Please, Uncle Donald?”

“I promise we’ll somewhat behave!”

“Pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaase!”

Donald stared down at the three identically adorable faces of his nephews, all flashing their versions of puppy eyes.

It was December 24th, and the triplets  _ really  _ wanted to sleep out by the tree. Of course, they found the idea fun, but Donald suspected he knew the real reason.

Huey, Dewey, and Louie probably wanted to bust Santa. (Which would make his job a lot harder.)

Donald had fond memories of his childhood Christmases. He and Della had also tried to catch the cookie thief red-handed. 

Della, however, had soon pieced together that Santa was in fact a myth. Thankfully, she let Donald believe for a little while longer. But she had eventually caved and told him when they were twelve.  _ “You just kept on not seeing it!”  _ she’d explained, exasperated. 

Despite the complications, Donald wasn’t about to deny his nephews from experiencing more Christmas joy, so he obliged. “Alright, alright. But go put on your pajamas while I set up the blankets!”

The little ducklings had already run off to their room, slightly rocking the boat, before their Uncle had even finished his sentence. 

Huey, Dewey, and Louie returned a few minutes later, wearing snug jammies, all colored to their tastes, of course. 

Donald had arranged three flannel blankets for them to sleep on, positioned close to the tree. They eagerly ran over to their spots and Donald tucked them in, kissing them each on the forehead. 

“Can you do story?” Louie begged, referring to the advent book Donald had been reading them each night.

“I wouldn’t forget it. This is the last one, because tomorrow’s Christmas!” Donald warmly told the youngest triplet, grabbing the large board-book. 

The triplets eagerly leaned closer to hear their Uncle tell the last story of the holiday. It was a peaceful scene; with the houseboat swaying ever so slightly while tiny snowflakes danced above the waters. The only glow in the dimly lit living room was that of the tree, shining light on the merry faces of Donald and his boys.

Once Donald finished the advent story, the boys snuggled back into their blankets. Though he knew they had no intention of going to sleep just yet. How could any kid possibly fall asleep on Christmas? (Especially when you were trying to catch Santa Claus.) 

Donald was perfectly willing to wait them out. It was him against a trio of five year olds, and although he always felt somewhat sleep-deprived, Donald was going to stay awake. So, he told the boys he’d stay out with them until they fell asleep.

Thankfully, they weren’t too restless. At one point, Louie pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Donald watched as he shakily drew a list of bullet points. But before filling them in, he must have noticed his Uncle watching him.

“I’m writing to Santa,” he explained.

“Go quick!” Huey urged. “He migh’ not be accepting letters soon.”

“Yeah, he’s gotta travel the world. I hope he’ll come here first,” Dewey chimed in, wistfully staring up at the tree. For all its beauty, it lacked gifts. 

Louie nodded to his brothers. “I know, but I’m telling him why I can be ontha nice list.”

Donald’s heart sunk. “You’re already on the nice list.”

“Why?” Louie asked genuinely, his eyes wide and bright. 

“Because you’re a good kid. And even if you weren’t on the nice list, I would tell Santa to change his mind.”

Dewey looked as though his whole world had exploded. “You can talk to Santa?” he asked, awestruck.

“Do all grownups have that power?” Huey questioned.

“I guess so,” Donald shrugged, feeling delight in their pureness. 

“Wooaah,” they all said simultaneously. 

Louie put away his list, and a content silence stretched between them all. Soon enough, Louie fell asleep, a little smile across his face.

“Uncle Donald?” Dewey peeped up after a while. “Can I have an ornament?”

“Sure, buddy.” Donald handed him a glittery angel.

The blue duckling admired the decoration, shifting it between his two hands. Donald noticed Dewey’s eyelids were beginning to droop.

Donald remembered the beginning of the month, and how entranced Dewey had been with the ornaments. All of the triplets had been excited to put up the Christmas tree, but Dewey most of all. He had loved decorating and watching the lights glow during the night. 

Still clutching the angel, Dewey turned to Huey and cocked his head sleepily. Some sort of silent triplet communication. Donald had had the same with Della. 

“Uncle Donald,” Dewey whispered again, rubbing his eyes. “Uncle Donald we were tryin’ to see Santa.”

“I am too,” Donald playfully whispered back.

Dewey smiled, setting the ornament down beside him. “Will you see him for me? I’m tired now.”

“I promise.”

“Double-promise?”

“I double-promise.”

“Triple-promise?”

“Triple-promise.”

Apparently satisfied, Dewey gave one last look to the plate of cookies, then dozed off. Donald sighed happily. The anxieties of his job, and often the lack thereof, seemed so far away now.

Only Huey remained awake. He had his arms folded behind his head and was staring up at the ceiling. The oldest triplet looked very deep in thought.

Donald continued to sit there, waiting. He was determined not to fall asleep. He still had to put their gifts under the tree. 

Suddenly, Huey was jolted out of his contemplative state. He joyfully grinned at Donald then told him, “I think Santa’s already here.”

Donald’s first reaction was to disregard the idea, but then he realized Huey wasn’t disappointed at knowing the truth behind Santa. In fact, he seemed quite gleeful, finally having figured it out. 

So, Donald simply held up his finger to his beak, making a  _ shhhh  _ sound. 

Huey mimicked his Uncle, his expression jolly. Not long after that, the red triplet quickly slipped into slumber. 

Donald gave a sigh of relief, and quietly stood up from his armchair. He was suddenly filled with an overwhelming thankfulness upon seeing his three nephews sleeping peacefully next to the tree.

To him, it was bittersweet. Donald had lost Della, but he was now able to unconditionally love her boys.

_ I’m taking good care of them, Della,  _ he silently promised, wherever she was, simply lost or actually gone.

Donald silently tiptoed to his room, retrieving the presents he’d wrapped; three shiny sleds. He proceeded to carefully put them underneath the Christmas tree.

Donald’s heart happily fluttered as he imagined the looks on the triplet’s faces in the morning. 

Then, just before going off to bed himself, Donald gave one last goodnight kiss to each of his boys.


End file.
